Unseen Moments in the World and Life of Sam
by TheSpaminator92
Summary: <html><head></head>This is a collection of one shots related to my stories A New World, A New Life and A Changing World, A Changing Life. It is fueled both by my own imagination a requests from readers. It will contain a variety of genres and focus on no characters in particular, but my oc Sam will be featuring prominently. Please read and review!</html>
1. Mornings

Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Enjoy!

/There Is An Inn, A Merry Old Inn/

Everything was quite, everything was peaceful, and Sam loved it.

It was like 7:00 AM, and she lived in college owned apartments kiddy corner to her college, which meant that everyone else who lived in the complex was sleeping, or hungover. Her roommates were both still asleep, and would remain that way for several more hours, and there was blissful silence, and stillness.

It was fall, so the air outside was a little brisk, the tree outside of their slider door, to the balcony they couldn't use but were still charged the square footage for, had lost all of it's leaves, just a dark shape against the gray of the overcast sky. The girl who used to have a little pink lamp in the window across from their second story apartment wasn't there, but Sam could still see the pink hue on the window, in her minds eye, where it used to be.

The light coming in through the blinds was a bit dim, and gray, but it was enough to see by.

So Sam sat at the kitchen table of their dinky apartment, clad in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks, drinking her coffee with pumpkin spice creamer in it, looking out the window, enjoying the changing of the seasons and the kind of mornings it allowed her to enjoy.

She was on her laptop, reading the news between writing an essay, just chilling, because, really, mornings were her favorite time of day.

/Beneath An Old Grey Hill/

Sam sat, wrapped in her cloak and blanket in an attempt to protect herself from the cold of a winter morn in the desert, pressed against the still sleeping Doubica's side in an attempt to keep warm, just watching the world wake up.

Burb and Nim were still asleep, curled up next to their respective wargs and wrapped in their own blankets, their chorus of snores a comforting sound to Sam's freezing ears. They were in a part of the desert where it began to turn into forest again, just on the edges, so there were a few scrubby trees around, but not much.

Their campfire glowed with barely burning embers, just waiting to be brought back to life to cook their breakfast, but, for now, Sam was content to just sit and watch.

The sun began to rise, peeking just over the horizon, a mix of oranges, reds, and yellows, warming the blue sky of night, the sand around their little camp shining silver, then gold.

It wouldn't be long now before the boys woke, neither ever managed to sleep long after the sun rose, the wargs would sleep a little longer than their people, but would wake before long as well.

However, for the moment they were still snoring away, Nim snorting as he turned over to press more firmly into Goliath's belly.

Sam smiled, because, despite all she had been through, she still loved mornings.

/And There They Brew A Beer So Brown/

It was a quiet morning in Erebor, normally there was all sorts of noise from the gates and the districts, such as the produce sellers and bakers, but, today, all was quiet, and it was nice.

Sam usually had to get up a lot earlier to get any silence in the morning, and she usually only got up that early when she had to and, even then, usually other members of the Company were up, which meant she would soon have the princes, the Broadbeams, the brothers Ri, or someone else coming to get her, which meant a swift end to her quiet morning.

Sam had taken to stocking black tea leaves in her room so she wouldn't need to bother anyone for her morning caffeine fix, so she put on her kettle, and was soon enjoying strong, slightly bitter tea goodness.

After her cup of tea, Sam decided to see what was up in Erebor, so she left her rooms and quietly, and discreetly, because she didn't enjoy dealing with politicians or business people early in the morning, made her way toward the gates.

The guards, by now used to her behavior, simply nodded at Sam as she made her way up to the battlements, watching the sun peak through the doorway as it began to peak over the horizon.

Sam finally got to the battlements, and leaned her arms on the stone, enjoying the view.

The sun shone upon the Long Lake, the red reminiscent of Smaug's flames on the water as he headed for Laketown, but now the town stood tall and proud, in better shape than it had been in in ages, upon the lake, flourishing with the restoration of Erebor and Dale.

The light upon the water served to backlight the city of Dale, the tall spires and building looking majestic in the light, the shadow cast by the city making it easy to see the different people coming and going, both from Erebor and Dale, to deliver goods or sell at the markets of both cities, trade obviously booming.

Sam enjoyed watching all of the little people, from the battlements at least, travel to and fro, and enjoyed hearing the beginnings, instead of the full blown racket, of the noises that said Erebor was a thriving city.

Sam felt an arm go around her shoulders and turned to see Kili, smiling a sleepy smile as he yawned, a dopey grin going across her own face as she leaned into his side, both of them enjoying the quiet of the morning.

Morning would always be her favorite.

/That The Man In The Moon Himself Came Down/

All right I hope y'all enjoyed that.

So far the only person who has given me inspiration for these one shots is YinYangWriter, which I greatly appreciate, so if y'all enjoyed this, please give me some more ideas!

BTW, this is a bit of a birthday present for YinYangWriter, so I hope you have enjoyed my friend!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Mirkwood Lament

Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Enjoy!

/One Night To Drink His Fill/

The fire haired elven maiden lingered in the tree tops of her home, listening to the chorus of laments being sang for those lost, but, as she watched butterflies fly from the trees into the light of the setting sun, it was the words of one lament in particular, that for the one the kingdom of Mirkwood had wronged, that she found herself focusing on.

Tauriel could not help but think how she would have enjoyed sharing the beautiful view before her with Lady Lethril, the one called Sam by the dwarves that had loved, and now mourned, the stubborn, but kind, young woman. She could imagine, in her mind's eye, the look of wonder her young face would have held at the sight, the way her green eyes would have widened as she watched the butterflies fly away into the darkening night, the way she would smile and giggle like a little girl, and then turn to Tauriel and thank her for showing it to her, because she had always made sure she said thank you, even for little things.

Tauriel would have enjoyed showing her all the ways Mirkwood was beautiful and good, trying to help her forget the darkness and cruelty she had been subjected to, that she should never have had to endure under the leaves of the trees before her.

Tauriel felt her heart fill with regret and a feeling of loss, both for the friendship that never had the chance to blossom and the young woman who had died too soon.

She bowed her head in memory as the stars came out, all shining and beautiful, the memories of a thousand lifetimes reflected in their light. Tauriel sat like that for a while, remembering, before she was joined by another presence, and she did not need to look up to know who it was.

Legolas sat next to his friend, both on a single branch that would have broken had they been anything else but elves. Whereas Tauriel bowed her head to the stars that had watched over the world since the beginning, he looked up at them.

The Battle had been won, but a steep price had been payed. Legolas regretted little after the long life he had lived, but he regretted much of what he had done in the last few months.

He regretted being blind to the corruption of those under his command, to the suffering of an innocent, and letting his prejudices color what he had known he was seeing in the dwarves.

But most of all, he regretted not being able to do penance, to truly earn the forgiveness of the elf friend he had allowed to be wronged. He regretted not being allowed to get to know Sam more before she died, been able to indulge in his own dry humor and battle her impressive wit and sharp tongue.

He also regretted the fact that he, Tauriel, and his father, King Thranduil, would forever live with the guilt her death, not to mention everything else, left in their hearts. She had been too young, even by human standards, and she had died because of a battle that could have been avoided, could have been prevented, if not for the pride and greed of three kings.

But it might also have been prevented if any of them had thought to protect Sam more. True, she was a more than capable fighter, but she had been badly injured and only barely recovered, not to mention the target on her back for her association with the Company, with Thorin.

Legolas knew his father was sitting on his throne, separating himself from the feast in memory of those lost, isolating himself even more than he usually did as punishment for himself, staring off into space, thinking over what Sam had said, both when the treachery of Authast and Asgaranwar had been revealed and when she had asked Dain for help, and knowing, now, that he should have assigned her a protective unit, a guard, something, anything that may have prevented her fate.

Both father, and son, knew she would likely have resisted the action, rejected it in favor of using all of the troops for their common end, but he should have insisted, then she would have had someone watching her back, and she would not have been killed, or had her body taken.

The thought of her complaining about being baby sat brought a smile to Legolas' lips as he stared up at the stars, regretting not being able to tell Sam their stories about them, even as the same thought caused a quirk of the king's lips, the defiance in the little women making it the only possible outcome if he had actually tried to do it.

The king regretted his harshness towards Sam when they had first met, towards Lord Elrond's Listener, because if only he had listened sooner...the young woman who reminded him so much of their own Tauriel would not have been lost.

Thranduil was fond of Tauriel, and what made him so fond of his Captain was also what had made him so fond of Sam, for the short time he had really known her.

He mourned the fact he would never see her fire cultivated that way it could have been, that he would never be able to make anything up to her personally, to make her an even better fighter, a more terrifying force to be reckoned with, but he also mourned the fact that Tauriel, and his son, would never get the opportunity to cause havoc with her (or the princes, now that relations with the dwarves had once again gone sour) in any of the three kingdoms, something that, while it might have annoyed him, and probably Thorin, they would have enjoyed the spectacle none the less.

They all mourned what could have been, what should have been, as the last, somber, lingering, and heart wrenching notes of Sam's lament floated up through the trees, to the stars that could not tell them hope had not yet been lost.

/The Ostler Has A Tipsy Cat/

Hope y'all enjoyed that!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	3. A Secret Long Kept Pt 1

Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Enjoy!

/That Plays A Five Stringed Fiddle/

It wasn't supposed to be like this, it just wasn't.

They were all supposed to stick together and stay out of trouble and be happy the way their mother had wanted them to be, the way they had always wanted to be.

But now, just days after her death, here he was, holding one little brother, who was bawling in his arms, unaware of all that had transpired in the last hour save that a stranger had been in the house, while the other hauled off a dead body.

One they needed to get rid of, and fast, as quickly and quietly and secretly as possible.

Lest anyone find out and they, the older two, be put in jail for murder, no matter that it had been entirely accidental and in defense of their family, of their home, while their baby brother was given away and none of them ever saw each other again.

Oh, how had things gone so wrong?

/And Up And Down He Saws Hid Bow/

Why had he been in their house? Why?

Nori dragged the body (the heavy, though lighter than he had thought, body, but he should have known, they were both built for stealth, it was one of the things he had inherited from the dwarf, but he had never dreamed he would find that information out this way, not in his worst of nightmares) of his sire, Nadder, through the shadows. He was dragging it toward a bridge over the river that flowed out of the city, the one with the least traffic at any time of day, especially in the dead of night (and Dori said all of his night wanderings and troublemaking would only get him in trouble, not get him out of it).

Nori was not even of age yet, and he was already hiding a body (he and Dori, and even their mother, had known he was probably destined for a less than completely legal existence, but they had never thought he would start so young).

The body of his own father.

Who would have thought that he would lose both of his parents within the span of a week?

His mother, Fitoria, had died not but a few days ago of dragon lung, the affliction suffered by many dwarves who had been deep in the Lonely Mountain when Smaug attacked, ash and other debris covering the insides of their lungs, inhaled in the run to escape, making it harder and harder for them to breathe, over the years, until they couldn't breathe any more.

Mother had suffered for years before air finally ceased to pass her lips. It was the same disease that had left Ori (his dear, sweet little brother, only ten years old and just learning to walk) without a father when he had been four, the scholar who had sired the youngest son of Fitoria dying of the disease quietly in his sleep.

And now Nori was in the same boat as both of his brothers (Dori's father had died in the fall of Erebor), without either parent because, for whatever reason, the sire of Nori, Nadder, had come to their house this night.

Dori and Nori both knew him as a thief, as an outlaw, who had never had anything more to do with his son than Dori or Ori's fathers had had to do with them.

Dori hadn't even known it was Nadder when he attacked the intruder in their home. Dori and Nori were both grieving and struggling to take care of each other and Ori, never dreaming in a million years that Nadder would show up for any reason, let along to rob them, and too grieved to have recognized his familiar (if only in passing) form in the darkness of their home. Dori, with all of his strength and fear and grief and anger (at their mother being taken away from them and a variety of other things) had attacked the stranger, the just barely of age dwarf easily taking on Nadder, who had likely been too surprised to defend himself against the eldest of the sons of Fitoria.

When they had realized what it was that had happened, both Nori and Dori had been horrified and terrified, but knew what needed to be done, because they simply could not risk anyone finding out, for Ori's sake and their own.

Which was why Nori found himself making sure the coast was clear before he (he still couldn't believe he was doing this, and felt more grieved, and sick to his stomach, than he had thought he would at the death of a dwarf he barely knew, for all that they were father and son) lugged his father's body over the side of the bridge.

The body made an almighty splash as it hit the water, but was soon enveloped by the darkness of the turgid river and Nori prayed to any god that would listen that it would never be found, that he and his brothers could live in peace.

/Now Squeaking High, Now Purring Low/

Sorry this post is late, and that there was nothing last week, things just seem to be getting away from me lately, so I guess I should say that, at least until the end of the holiday season, my updates will be more sporadic, but as soon as the first of the years rolls around, I will (hopefully) be giving y'all regular updates!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	4. Forge Frustration

Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Enjoy!

/Now Sawing In The Middle/

"Oh, for the love of God!"

Burb sighed and shook his head (compete with an eye roll) as Sam, Nim face palming and growling under his breath in frustration (though he was smiling because this was the most fun he'd had in ages, and Sam was entertaining), once more failed to complete the most basic of actions required for blacksmithing.

The orc sat in the doorway of Nim's forge fixing holes in all of their clothes, slightly exasperated with Sam and their new friend (they had only known him for a few weeks, Sam recovering her strength quickly with the care of Nim and Burb) as Nim attempted to teach Sam the basics of blacksmithing so she could learn a few things while she was still too weak to travel but able to do other things.

"Come on!"

Nim, standing beside Sam, with hammer in hand, and an anvil with a piece of red hot metal that had been heated repeatedly, and was beginning to weaken because of it, the subject of her glare as she stared at the anvil, looked at Burb.

They shared a look.

The odd site of an orc sitting quietly in a corner sewing while a lanky and oddly effeminate, though rather hairy, individual looking at each other in commiseration (Sam had been at this all morning and was getting nowhere) and shared amusement (Sam was rather entertaining to watch were terribly frustrated, the various things she would exclaim treading into the realm of odd and amusing, though she had yet to get to the point of 'Flying fudge monkeys!') as Sam failed, once again, to do something so simple.

How was it that Sam, an accomplished warrior, could not manage to hit a piece of metal on an anvil with a hammer?

/The Landlord Keeps A Little Dog/

Alright, there y'all go!

Reviews are always appreciated!


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